


That's one hell of a Jedi

by sapphicxrey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Jedi, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Poe Dameron, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicxrey/pseuds/sapphicxrey
Summary: Finn is training to be better, and Poe knows better.Finn is leaving to find the Jedi path, Poe is left with a whole lot of feelings to deal with.
Relationships: Poe Dameron & Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 25
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poedamerainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poedamerainbow/gifts).



> jj said: jedi knights aren’t celibate - the thing that is forbidden is attachments - and possessive relationships (so jedi one night stands are a thing), enjoy !!

Missions are pouring out of everywhere these days. They had a Resistance to rebuild. Poe Dameron, with his constant worrying and the menacing weight of his guilt, hasn’t stopped for a second, but he is no match to Finn. 

Finn runs missions, trains, collects, is neck-deep in the Resistance repertoire. The most astonishing thing: he pours his heart in everything he does. It’s amazing, really, and brings overwhelming feeling of praise to Poe. Secretly, he wishes some of that attention was for him, how would it feel to be granted such dedication? Moreover, how would it feel for it to be Finn’s?

Poe cannot really say he has stayed quiet and low all this time, his abilities in the air have come really in handy lately and he has had the chance to prove that he is indeed one of the very best pilots out there. One of the best in the Resistance. The Resistance. The one himself had put in danger, nearly ended, probably doomed.

Poe shakes his head, he is vaguely aware of his surroundings. The small base they have gathered, the tiny victories they had along the way had brought them here, a large planet in the Outer-Rim, mostly abandoned. He had to admit he was a bit sick of the Outer Rim already, this whole planet is covered in  [ grassy ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Grass) plains where large seed pods grow, not a single big city;  _ but it has coverage _ , Poe reminds himself,  _ and we don’t risk lives staying here _ .

They have a war to win.

Or at least to end with a good fight.

Outside colors are blending already. Everything is still mostly blue, darted with some oranges. The sunset is Poe’s favorite time of the day, not just to surf the sky, he liked it on land too, it reminds him of the chalk drawings he used to make back home as a child, all the colors intertwined soon enough. Some young cadets pass his way; he doesn't know everyone’s names, he's never felt the need to, and as the Resistance grows, steady and slow —so  _ slow _ —, it's difficult to catch up. However, lately he had been wanting to meet everyone. Just in case.

No more than a thousand steps, that’s what took to get to the Arena. That somewhat scruffy looking piece of clear isn't sandy at all, but it is were the jedi trained. Jedi, in plural. There are two now. Poe likes going there, it is away from certain unpleasant looks— only six months had passed since Poe’s biggest mistake, and, honestly, he gets it—, and the trees around it makes it magical enough for wonder to take up one’s mind.

He hears grunts and people running. The unmistakable sizzling of lightsabers against grass echoes, Poe had become so accustomed to watching his friends he could almost make up in his head the rutinary fight. One of them light and way too strong, the other one fierce and with frozen concentration. He could imagine the tricks, the lifting of objects, stopping one another, always trying to be one step ahead, just inch more powerful than the other. 

It is an amazing dance that sucks his breath away. Without fail. Poe could picture it all, yes; but it is so much better to look.

Finally, two figures cropped against stark orange catch his gaze. Rey is the closest to him. She is standing with her knees bended for better balance and her breath is heavy. It looks like a tough fight. There are massive holes dugged up all around the arena, Rey’s signature buns are half undone, the effort to keep up the fight is screaming in her every muscle. Poe secludes himself nearby, doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire or to distract the Jedi (he had done once, not his most brilliant idea). 

He hears faint steps and can almost see Rey’s jaw clench.  _ Kriff _ , this isn't going to end well. From a place on his right he feels it before he sees it. The force-pull that seems to suck everything else out of the question confirms it. It’s Finn. 

The guy is just as disheveled as Rey. Sweat is dripping on his skin, all of his muscles are tensed. He has been working himself to test every limit of his force-sensitivity; in no time, he became a match to Rey. Poe knew that the guy was secretly expecting that he was one to Kylo Ren too, he had seen the sworn revenge written all over Finn’s face. He believes him. 

The fight erupts again. Blue against green. Two of the most known lightsabers given to the last of Jedis; Luke’s for her, Leia’s for him. Green suits him, not clear, not dark, but definitely bright. 

At first he believed the description was a tod too much, that was till he actually witness a lightsaber duel. Poe can only manage to stare in awe. The fight is raw energy, one retaliates and counter strikes, the two of them slashing the orange sky. It is quick but he has learned how to read them, he can see the thoughtfulness delivered in each blow; every feint, every dodge, every block is a trap to the unwary. 

The fight ends, it’s hard to say who won, he isn’t sure if he wants to find out. Poe strolls over them. Finn is helping Rey up and both are commenting the duel, quite chirpy chat for such a deadly fight. 

Oh, Finn.

Poe hadn’t noticed before. He wasn’t close enough, couldn’t make out the details. Now he is just a few steps away and he sees it. It’s Finn. And he is wearing Jedi robes. Finn is wearing Jedi robes. Finn. Jedi robes. He can sense his brain short-circuiting but of  _ kriffing _ course his friend would see him and come up to him, Rey at his tail.

_ Kriff _ . Finn looks so good.

There is something about the raw look Finn wears after a battle that always makes Poe nervous enough his heartbeat can be heard from a dozen feet radius. He isn’t sure he will survive if Finn touches him. Finn is close now.

Poe has to catch himself before he lets out an embarrassing sight. What a view. The guy looks so good is unfair. Poe wants to get lost in him. A good way to go, probably a much better than the one that is awaiting him.

“So?” Finn asks, arching his eyebrows, “what do you think?”

“Me?” Poe blinks, quickly checking with Rey who has a smug smile on her, “about what?”

“The outfit, dumbass.” Rey says, strolling over to him, patting his shoulder lightly.  _ She knows _ .

“The outfit.”

“Yes.”

“Well?” Finn insists, he has a  _ kriffing _ nervous look on. Poe wonders around the idea of just telling him how fucking good he looks and how much he wants more of… Well, just more.

“It’s...” Poe says, losing his voice mid-sentence. He swallows and tries again, “it’s fitting, buddy.”

He smiles before gripping Finn’s shoulder in the most friendly manner he gathers right now, “that’s one hell of a Jedi, do you hear that world?!” Poe shouts to no one specifically.

The pair of Jedi just laugh at his silliness. Poe physically relaxes, that was a close one. 

***

Rehydrated nuna soup makes wonders to his system. Yes, it tastes awful and makes his taste buds scream in discomfort, but it warms his body from the inside out and takes his mind off his Jedi friends, only for a tiny bit.

He takes a quick look around and smiled to himself. Six months weren’t a lot of time, but he is afraid the Resistance is just like one of those branches he would find at home; the more you try to take them down, the more they rebel. 

Poe finishes everything and stood up to just go back to his quarters. Six months and they managed to get individual quarters, this tiny scruffy base makes him proud. 

As he stands up, a hand drops in his shoulder.

_ Finn. _

He knows it before looking up. His friend sits beside him, a scalding bowl of what Poe just ate waiting for him.

“Man! You are so fast, I almost couldn’t catch you in time.” Finn says, brightly, and dives in the soup.

“Me? Losing time with my buddy?” Poe answers, a bit too quickly, a bit too desperate, “I wouldn’t dream of it?”

The Jedi just huffs a laugh and keeps eating. Finn takes a few moments to re-start the conversation.  _ Great  _ —now Poe has time for his eyes to travel through his outfit. He still hasn’t changed out of the robes. Poe feels color brighten his cheeks, he muffles a laugh, embarrassed.

It is so unfair Finn looks so good while eating soup. Why did he do in another lifetime to deserve this?

Worst thing? He loves it. As much as he longs for Finn in other ways ( _ multiple _ ways), Poe always drowns himself into their conversations, intrigued about everything his friend had to say to him. 

“Ok, so,” Finn speaks up again, “Rey and I were practicing about this new move right?” He continues, his voice picking up speed, totally immersed in the story. “And this kid comes up, you know the one? Scrawny-looking, maybe twelve or so?

Poe nods quiet and simple; he knows who that kid is, one of the few that lived in a nearby town (by nearby he meant a  _ three hour long _ walk, but, hey, he would also take that walk just to see Jedi). He shifts his attention towards Finn again, mesmerized by the story. 

“So this kid comes up and starts babbling about wanting to be a Jedi and showing us all the moves he had been practicing. Poe, that kid was just so good! You should have seen him, doing power stances with his skinny arms, running and jumping in the air!” Finn says, his eyes glittering. 

_ He would be a good father _ … Poe brushes off that thought. 

“And this little friend of his, a girl, one of  _ those _ girls, you know? Super cool, relaxed, like everything brushes off her… She looks so unimpressed and soon enough they get in a little fight and I try to break them off and she goes and says: “If you guys are so kriffing powerful why don’t you just turn the evil man’s lightsaber and get on with it!” Poe, she yelled so loudly I thought the First Order may have just found us.”

Poe laughs wholeheartedly, “she is a right there, buddy, why don’t  _ you _ do it?” He is digging the teasing, a lot. 

“That’s what I thought!” Finn exclaims, his arms going up in random ways, “centuries of Jedi training and a little girl may have just unlocked the truth.”

They stay quiet for a few seconds, till their gazes meet and they melt in a quivering mess of loud laughs and playful touches.

The camaraderie floats around them, making Poe a bit dizzy, just around the heart. He eyes Finn, still laughing, sparkling tears in the corner of his eyes. He wished he could bottle up his laugh and get drunk every night only with it. 

***

Poe keys in the password for his small quarters. Distracted. More like dizzy, yeah,  _ dizzy  _ is the word. He drops to his bed and picks up the datapad. The same list appears in front of him. A list of names.

Names.

Everyone’s.

From that day. Everyone who died. Everyone who lost. 

Poe’s fault.

He had taken upon the task of learning everyone’s names in the Resistance. Old and new. It doesn’t help the remorse, not even a bit; the tightest hug around his chest is still burning him. At every moment, restless. Five months had passed since he started, he had learned the big ones, Hold, Ackbar; as well as the small ones, Riga, a skilled technician, Tekka, one of the cooks. 

Tonight, just because he is selfish, he closes the list, the archive resting for the first time in maybe weeks. Instead, his mind swims back to a different time. 

When he was just a small hot-headed teenager in Yavin, he liked to think he stood out. His life was dedicated to flying, his friends and the occasional experimental fling —well, ok, it had been only two before his Academy days. Still, plural.  _ Flings _ . 

Promises for a lifetime, but Poe Dameron always shoots for the stars. 

He wanted to follow his parents steps. Fight for what was right. Save the galaxy. Just what every teenager wants, a chance to be the golden star, the one who gets the attention. There was a reason as of why Chosen Ones stories were so popular in every planet. 

One of the things that for sure distanced himself from the other hot shot guys was his bedroom. While his friends hanged posters of girls in suggesting positions and of propaganda of the lastest ships, Poe’s was different. His was clouded with posters, scraps from books, cut-outs from newspapers about the Glory Days, the Rebellion, all of the rebels and pilots he admired hanged over his head every night, watching over a younger Poe dreaming of a frozen sea of glittering stars. 

And there were Jedi. Lots of them. The legends of older days. Those were his favorites, the ones that always caught his eyes; they were strong, powerful. Poe hadn’t known a single Jedi, only drank from the stories told. Yes, he had rebels, pilots and fighters; but mostly he had Jedi. What could he say, young Poe was fascinated, usually dreaming about meeting one, kissing one, his hormones taking up those dreams.

And Finn was wearing Jedi robes that afternoon. Poe had the possibility to experience him, just brushes here and there, nothing compared of real _ touching _ . He longed for touch more that he had ever thought he could.

Poe grunts at the thought his mind is brewing— not entirely against his will. He picks his datapad. He searches for what he is scared to admit.

Young Poe may have dreamed of Jedi, so he knew a lot about the issue. He remembers all the bedtimes stories her mother used to lull him to sleep with; stories about the Skywalkers siblings, whom she had met, and their crazy adventures. As a young pilot he had wandered from bar to cantina, listening quietly to drunk stories that featured lightsabers and duels. He had researched the customs of a Jedi, how they dressed, how they trained. He knew their destiny. 

Still he throws the question to the data bank. And he finds what he knew he would. 

For the Jedi kind, attachments are forbidden. 

If Finn continued down that path Poe will lose the fantiest chance he holds; a chance already small as he had no idea if Finn even  _ liked _ men in that way, though he did tell Poe he was no more than just friends with Rey and Rose (Poe can’t really keep up with his  _ just friends _ ).

Still, the image of Finn in those robes sticks with him. Not leaving him alone. Poe not really wanting to forget. 

The datapad makes a faded sound when he left it again on the floor. 

  
The idea of Finn in that outfit will surely keep him awake tonight, his own hand already coming down on him, stopping a little in those places where his friend had touched him that evening. His friend. Poe classified as one of his  _ just friends _ ; no matter how much he felt for Finn, that’s all he is going to get from the Jedi. Only that, just muscle memories not sure his body would be able to ever forget.


	2. Chapter 2

It is bright and early and Poe has a mission. Just a simple supply run, minimum risk, he could even get back early enough to have dinner on base. 

He waits in line for breakfast. A quick look over his shoulder and he spots Rey, Rose, a bunch of pilots… And, of course, Finn. The impression from last nig ht's dreams still tingles his skin, his cheeks becoming real hot, real fast, embarrassment fills him as he ducks his head; the images of Finn that his mind made up to torture him wouldn’t leave him alone, not that he didn’t enjoy the torture.

Poe makes his way to the table with a light breakfast. He waves good morning to a couple of people, their names forge on his mind, he needs to keep learning  _ that _ list, he must.

As of now, he slides into his seat beside Finn and starts eating. His plate looks ridiculous compared to Finn’s, which is packed with all sorts of different treats— good, he needs it more, the Jedi training is pretty intense. 

The pair are really closed. So, so close. Their shoulders brush every time one of them moves. Poe could lean into his friend, it would only take a couple of inches and he could touch— properly touch— Finn. 

Poe is so mesmerized by the idea of them being skin on skin, he doesn’t recall when did Rey asked him something, or what she asked for that matter.

“Huh?” Poe asks.

“Distracted, pilot?” Rey teases him, her eyes momentarily sliding to Finn before coming back to meet Poe’s. That damn devious smile of hers.

“Just tired.” He says,  _ can they please change the topic? _

“You sure you good for your mission?” It’s Finn who asks him. Poe catches a sight.  _ He remembered _ . “I can be your backup if you need it.”

Poe bites his lip looking at Finn, considering his offer, “it’s ok, buddy, I got this, trust me.”

Finn flashes him a smile before turning back to his breakfast an a chatty Rose who rambles about informatics. 

Poe would actually listen if his eyes weren’t glued to Finn. He is laughing lazily, he looks happy. That smile, what would it feel to steal it? Never give it back? Feel it against his own? Rose had touched Finn in a way he never will—  _ good for her _ , if he had been in the same situation, hurt and dying, he would have kissed Finn too. 

Dying for a kiss while defending the Resistance? Sounds like a dream.

Poe’s dream.

Does he deserve it? To live a dream?  _ They _ , those on his list, couldn’t.

***

The evening has only taken the first bites from the sky when Poe comes back. The supply run went significantly well, nothing too surprising that a good pair of kicks wouldn’t solve. He shrugs his thoughts into the back of his mind. 

The little mission had done wonders. Poe is always dying to go on one, the way he gets to dissociate from his feelings, from Finn, from everyone; a marvelous break. However he is back on track again. 

Poe steps out of the ship. This is his favorite part about any mission lately. How did he even manage to like them before?

He is absent while reporting to BeeBee-Ate some details of the mission. That moment passes and soon enough, two strongs arms are around him.

The best tradition Poe’s ever heard of and that he will cherish forever are Finn’s hugs every time a mission ends and they are back together in the same place. 

Poe wasn’t sure when did it start. He suspects that Finn is just, simply put, touch-starved. Life in the First Order isn’t gentle, Poe recalls the strict protocols about touching and having to wear the uniform all the  _ kriffing _ time. Also, Finn gives the best hugs.

Maybe it started after Crait. When Rey got there to save the day and the scraps of the Resistance that survived. The two friends had shared one of the most intense hugs he had ever witness, leaving a lingering stream of trust, of longing; it had been startling.

Then Finn just started doing it with all his close friends, Poe ostenting a high position in there— or so he thinks. 

When their bodies lock in the way only predestined pieces do, Poe isn’t tired anymore, ready to let go of all his good instincts that scream against a soft wall in a far, far corner in his mind; everything else is occupied by Finn. His body against Poe’s. The exact place where Finn’s hands held him. His smell.

Poe had never been poetic or good with words. His literacy begins and ends with the pep talks he gives to his squadron and the pair of couplets he makes up during drunken nights. 

Still, he swears by every god he knows, Finn smells like sunny days; rays of sunshine and a vast open blue sky. 

As everything does, the hug ends. It ends too quickly, too soon. What does he expect? It’s just a friendly hug, an I’m-glad-you’re-alive hug. Anything that goes beyond that was Poe’s imagination.

“Successful trip, huh?” Finn asks.

“Practical” Poe answers, “boring.” He adds.

Poe checks the time. Around this time yesterday Poe had found both Jedi in the Arena, the sky probably a sharp orange. He dreads the idea of just waving Finn off, and of spending more time alone in his room than he needs to. Even more when he hears this:

“Rey and I are leaving,” Finn comments, “a mission; find more Jedi. General just gave us green light.”

Of course she had, if Poe’s feelings weren’t so impatient and strong he would have said so himself; they need more fighters. It’s a war. Doesn’t make it easier to grasp around the idea of losing Finn, not just because he won’t see him or because he may decide to become celibate or something; it’s a missions, and missions go wrong. Poe is a living proof of it.

Poe is unsure of what to say, “so it’s official, you are becoming a Jedi.”

Finn ignores the question.

“You done with your training yet, buddy?” Poe tries again.   
  


He bites his lip.  _ Please say yes. _

Finn smirks, “what did you have in mind, pilot?”

***

They are going for a walk. Poe hadn’t noticed at first, with the fuzzy vision the hug gave him, but Finn is wearing a variation of his Jedi outfit, much more practical and less reverational; it makes Poe shiver with his fantasies.

The pair immersed in deep, deep conversation, only the glimmering stars for witness. 

“And then Jess goes and punches the guy in the face! You should have seen them! All that smugness gone…” Poe says, he is telling one of his million stories to Finn. He knows his friend likes to listen. “Poor pretty boy…” Poe fakes a small pout.

Finn gestures towards him, playful, “what? Were you already hearing wedding bells with that asshole?”

Poe laughs it off.  _ Does he know? He must.  _ Poe hadn’t exactly hide it to Finn, or to anyone in the Resistance for that matter.

“Hey, I’m an old man, I will have to settle down someday, you know?” Poe says, “and it seems I get along with assholes just fine.” 

Poe eyes Finn, incriminating him, causing his friend to shove him off a little, a punch in the shoulder.

“Asshole.”

And to that, Poe laughs.

“C’mon I want to show you something I found today while you were gone.”

“Awww, you couldn’t deal with the soul-crashing boredom without me, buddy?”

“Idiot.” Finn huffs, not in the tiniest bit annoyed.

Together, they make their way up a distant hill. Poe sighs, hills rode Yavin like the waves of an angry ocean, in this desolate planet they feared extinction. Soft blankets made clouds wrapped over them, slowly encompassing their hike; it is short and to a place Poe had never dared before. He wondered how had his friend, not only found the time, but the skill to find such place. 

Poe Dameron had never been a man of small details. Too many missions gone wrong had left him with an intuitive sense of what was needed and what not, his resourcefulness had saved him countless times. Far from perfection, Poe was useful. Finn wasn’t like that.

The place is damp, like the rest of the planet, although full of flowers.  Fresh flowers instantly brighten up a soul, now he is sure. Where  [ grassy ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Grass) plains once ruled, wild flowers grow —rainbow freckles to adorn the green. 

It takes him back home, to rushed mornings picking up flowers for his mother before going on a school trip. Poe looks for Finn with his eyes, the man in question was lurking one of what had to be the few trees that existed in this planet.

“C’mon here.” Finn whispers, softly.

Poe walks closer, quiet steps, not wanting to pop their little bubble. He gets to Finn’s side but can’t quite see what the man is referring to, he stands on his tip toes, almost losing balance.

“Careful.” It’s Finn again, he had caught his arm, pulling him close so they both can see. Poe doesn’t have words just yet, he is holding his breath like it is the last sane thing left in him. _ He is so close. So close. _

Finn makes a little move with the head, gesturing to the tree. Poe gets back into focus and shifts his head. _ Stop blushing, dumbass. _

“Wow.” The thought escapes Poe before he is aware of it.

He stretches a hand to touch it. Wow.

“Is it safe?”

Finn nods. “I asked in the med-bay, totally harmless and you don’t know the best part yet.”

Poe looks back at the honey. Is it honey? It looks like it. A little shimmering river danced between the hollows of the tree, sparkles of a faint shade of rainbow swim startling him. This was amazing. 

“Show me, please.”

A smirk appears in Finn’s lips. That smile again, they are standing so close he could feel it against his own if Poe dared; he doesn’t. Finn, unaware of his inner conflict, sweeps some of the substance with his fingers and holds them up between them, a little treasure of their own. 

“Take a bit and eat it.” Finn instructs.

Poe does as told, he trusts Finn to no end.

“Let’s take it at the same time, ok?” Finn asks, scooping even closer to the pilot, Poe can only manage to make a sharp move with his head. “Three. Two. One.”

The mysterious matter makes contact with his tongue. It is syrupy and sharp, making him giggle, Finn laughs beside him and hushes him.

“Poe.” Finn says softly, he points to the sea of flowers.

The colors are much brighter, the night helping the effect of the syrup; the flowers of this planet look ten times prettier, leaving Poe breathless. 

“It’s beautiful.”   
  


“I knew you would like it.”

Finn flashes him a smile, he answers with another. Finn takes his hand and tugs him along, Poe doesn’t dare to speak up and thanks all the gods he’s ever heard of for the chilliness of the night, otherwise his feelings may combust him. 

They sit between the flowers, stroking them, the effect not fading just yet, making them able to twirl little colorful stars between their fingers. 

“Who would have known this planet had this?” Poe wonders, his voice dull.

Finn rolls his eyes, “if you only gave it a chance, you are good at that.”

“I guess so, but you have to admit this isn’t the most striking place we’ve been.” Poe says, remembering all the missions they’ve been together since Crait.

“You think?”

Finn isn’t looking at him, his eyes fixed in the scenery. Poe peers at his friend’s profile, Finn’s dark skin looked from out of this world. A galaxy painted in the most beautiful canvas Poe had seen, the flashing lights danced around his long eyelashes, his soft lips, the relaxed bow of his neck.

“Maybe it isn’t so bad.”

Eyes land on him, Poe swallows harshly. 

“You are damn right, pilot.”

Poe doesn’t answer.

He can’t. They are so close, Finn is leaning into him a little bit at a time, their bodies closer with every word; his friend is staring at him, half a smile cracked, Finn moves a bit closer, their faces inexplicably within reach. And for a second, maybe not even that, Finn’s gaze breaks apart from the flowers, landing on Poe.  _ Is he going to…? Will he? _ He is now almost panting on Finn’s lips, their breath mingling.

“We should come back here someday.” Finn breaks the silence.

Poe beams at him, like he is the sunshine he had been missing. 

He thinks of all the missions they had been together, Crait and Jakku seemed like a long time ago. 

_ Can I go where you go? _

Poe remembers their complicity, their shared looks, how Finn could anticipate his every move.

_ Can we always be this close?  _

Finn is leaving, will the Jedi break their friendship? The skies are full of promises, not everyone could stay with Poe in the stars. How long do they have?

_ Forever? _

_ And ever? _

***

Back at Poe’s quarters, snacks flying around the room— Poe is sure there are some Elinian sweets lost in the couch forever—, a silly holovid playing in the background. Finn is commenting a little anecdote about his life Before Jakku (they have a small joke about there being a Before and After in Finn’s life) (Poe is part of the “life-changing” event) (Yes, it does make his stomach flip).

“Slip used to do this weird victory dance in the barracks, he looked like the dude in the movie.” Finn says, referring to one of his stormtroopers mates, smiling at the holovid. 

Poe is paying attention, so much attention, not to the holovid, of course, but to Finn’s laugh, his little head bob when he remembers something. Learning about him, Poe would be happy if he got to listen to what Finn did everyday.

“You never told me about that.”

Poe blinks at him, he doesn’t even remember his friend pausing the video. It takes him a couple of seconds to get what he is referring too.

_ The ring. _

“I can tell you now, buddy.” Poe responds.

He cracks an smile when Finn turns his body completely towards him, sitting cross-legged, those curious eyes Poe adored focused on him, he had noticed those eyes were mostly for him. Just having bits of Finn for himself made it hard to breathe.  _ Lovesick _ . 

Poe swallows. This is never easy; although, he trusts Finn, with his life, he _ knows _ this. Still, this is a piece of his soul, intimate. Poe laughs, nervous at the fact that he wouldn't want to share it with anyone else at the moment.

He keeps it brief. “It was my mom ring, a lucky charm really, I think she protects me while I’m flying, high up there, where she used to go.” Poe pauses, catches his tongue before continuing, but a quick look at Finn’s eyes tells him that he can keep going, “I want to protect my people the same way she di, give it to them one day.”

Their gazes meet. He is an open book for Finn, Poe bets his friend can see the memories of Crait, Holdo, coming back; Poe’s eyes reflecting all the names lost, all the new. 

Finn doesn’t say anything. Just reaches to touch the ring. Poe is not sure if his body remembers how to breathe, is it in and out? Out and in? Finn’s hand is close, eager to learn;  _ kriff, _ Poe wants to teach him about everything, the galaxy, his past, his touch… 

He loves spending time with Finn like this, bonding, having fun, being in each other’s presence feels magical; however, Poe can’t deny the fact that this isn’t everything he wants. Poe longs for a future that really isn’t anywhere else but his fantasies. He yearns for an opportunity to snuggle with Finn, 

talk about a time ahead when they could settle; he yearns for touch, for feelings, not for this pain. But he can’t— no one can let the longing slay the living.

Still. Finn’s hand reaches him, touches the skin of his neck, he thanks the stars for his habit of letting his collar open when off duty. His fingers are warm against him, Finn is not careful, the touch is natural, not precise like he is as nervous as Poe.

“Can I?”

Can he what? Kiss him? End him?  _ Yes, please _ , Poe thinks. He moves his head. Affirmative.

That’s enough for Finn’s fingers to slide to the back of his neck, his palm laying in the curve of his neck, over his collarbone. Poe can only witness everything, he is feeling too much, thought about a moment like this too many times, sometimes he would even daydream during a routinary flight and Bee Bee-Ate would beep at him mad. Worth it.

There is a dull clank, maybe Poe’s heart shattering when Finn breaks away? 

Right now Poe is left a bit of mess and he tries to get a handle of himself. Of course that is before he sees what Finn is up to. He swallows, hard. Finn is putting his ring around his neck. Finn. His ring. Finn with his ring. Finn.

“Poe,” Finn calls him, “I know you are going to worry about me when I’m gone.” 

That’s an understatement. 

“I will too. I do. A lot, Poe, a  _ kriffing _ lot.” Finn continues, his voice is cracking a bit, “sometimes…”

Poe shifts closer, pining written in his heart.

“Sometimes I worry I won’t see you again, any of you.”

He understands. Fuck, of course he does. Every mission he goes in, every he doesn’t, this war has taken so much from him already,  _ and I’ve taken so much from others because of it _ , he reminds himself.

“I want you to have it, buddy, didn’t have the courage to ask I guess.” Poe laughs it off.

Or tries. At least Finn lets out a shaky whisper. Poe tries to concentrate on how nice is to be around Finn, it was taking all of his willpower just keeping himself together.

“Coward.” Finn finally says, punching his shoulder.

“Oh thank you, my ego needed another punch in the face.”

“It really did.”

Finn’s voice is quieter. Poe lets his mind slip away… Just to stay sane, just to get through it. But he always comes back.

But this time Finn’s lips are on his.

The kiss is quiet. There is no other way to describe it, when they part there is not screaming or a world ending up in flames. Just a missing feeling.  _ It's the good things that hurt when you're missing them. _

So Poe tries again. 

And maybe again.

Practice makes perfection, you know?


	3. Chapter 3

Poe and mornings have had an intricate relationship during the years. Leaving a warm bed in the morning with the perspective of a near death wasn’t always the best encouragement. But this? Waking up with a warm body lazily wrapped around him, slow sweet caresses waking him up— or maybe doing the quite opposite.

Finn is telling him something, he says he needs to leave, he needs to get up… Poe can only really process the cold spot of  _ his _ ring on Finn’s neck against his back. Poe vaguely agrees to whatever he is saying and just pulls Finn closer as he drifts off to sleep.

When Poe finally opens his eyes again, he’s alone. He checks the time. Fuck. He missed it, the goodbye, Finn and Rey may be in lightspeed by now.  _ Idiot, why didn’t he listen to Finn this morning? _ They could have talked about that night, about everything.

He gets up, cleans himself and goes back to work. 

It takes a couple of hours of missing the right tool and spilling Jess’ special paint before his squadron snaps at him.

“Where are you today, Dameron?” It’s Jess, of course.

“It’s just this  _ kriffing _ thing keeps slipping!”

Pava eyes him for good measure. She gets up and starts helping him. 

They actually manage to get some work done before Poe finally cracks. Every event spilling out of his mouth, some secrets locked, others just flying around.

“So…”

“So?”

“Did you tell him?”

Poe is about to reply, indignant, and then he stops and thinks about it. Were his actions enough to express everything he felt? He had tried so, but they never really got to talking.

“I don’t know?” It’s his best answer.

“Let me get this straight,” she says, “apart from the other stuff, the only hint that Finn has about your feelings is a ring and you didn’t even tell him it was for your future partner.”

Poe smashes his face against the ship they are fixing.

“I only told him it was for people I cared about…”

“Poe Dameron, you are a mess.”

***

Poe knows, his brain is aware, that Finn’s mission is supposed to last fifteen to twenty days, that at thirty they will send help and— he really doesn’t wanna be aware of  _ this _ — in fortyfive days Finn and Rey’s file will read “missing, lost in battle”.

He really knows all of this; it just doesn’t make the wait easier. Poe’s activities have been reduced to simply fill the the void, the wait; he even asked the doctors at the med-bay for some sleeping pills but it was just too risky.

The first few days are easier. Finn’s smell dances around his every move, especially in some sweet spots around Poe’s room, his couch, his bed… And he can see little marks sprawled all over his body, one can almost see the traces of Finn’s hands.

On the sixth day, Poe is too scared to open his windows too much causing Finn’s essence to disappear; he even dresses up with the abandoned shirt he left behind, showing up to work with it, clearly several sizes bigger than him.

On the twelfth day after Finn left Poe enjoying their kisses to much, daydreaming about him, going away from him with one of his more important possessions, Poe spills everything all over the one and only Jessika Pava. She just listens to him and lightly strokes his back, the moment is painful, too similar of those nights in their early careers in the Academy when they were both too young to see through their clouded nights— but,  _ kriff _ , it used to feel so  _ good _ .

Twentieth day. Poe Dameron is quite miserable. He actually surprises himself, he expected by now he would be obsessed with the memorized sensation of Finn’s body against him; that wasn’t the deal. Right now, checking all the ships, for the second time today, Poe imagines their first kiss. The one on the couch. The soft brush of his lips, the way his breath tingled Poe’s skin; it is intoxicating. 

He thinks of their second kiss, where Poe was eager and excited, the kiss had been messy but Finn brushed it off sweetly. So, so sweet. 

Now Poe is making up scenarios. Finn is asking him about every corner in the universe, the same curious gaze from when he learned about the ring, Poe’s completely wrapped around his man, he’s able to touch him whenever he wants to. Poe is telling him he loves him. He is breathing hard now, his forehead against hard metal.

Twenty-two days and the radio silence breaks. In every corner he finds a new ghost, of him, his Finn, but the war needs him and he will take everything down to make up for his mistakes— even if it costed him his own life. The Resistance is collecting itself, quicklier now; however, Poe now had time to learn all those names, in exchange everyone seemed to know him, or at least his pain.

Connix yells at him, snapping him out of his misery. A video from Rey and Finn. They are safe. Together they race to the comms room. The General gives him a measured look, she herself had gone through similar things with his Han.

The video is seventy-five seconds long. Rey and Finn appear, safe, unharmed, a little dirty and smudged, just how they should be. First, they inform about the mission, plain and old-fashioned, twenty seconds of the video down; the environment looks cold, not Hoth-cold, but still. The report ends and the two friends crack some smiles, Poe can see Finn’s cheek crinkling up a bit through the projection. Rey moves the camera onto a small number of number of people. 

Seven, most of them in their elder years, though a couple are roughly forty, dominated by some gray strikes, and only one young dashing man, probably a twenty year old, Poe for sure is much, much older than him… But not than Finn. Rey starts telling the story, the elders cheer a bit; they had been part of a sector that locally fought for the Rebellion, at least its ideals, in the past. Meanwhile, Poe couldn’t peel his eyes off Finn, this time for a different, younger reason. The two men are really close, beaming at Rey and the rest of the group, Finn’s smile is open and loving, the unnamed young man reciprocated the energy but Poe didn’t think he was aiming at Rey.

“It looks like they will be here in no time,” the General comments briefly, “not even thirty-six hours.”

_ Had Finn taken off his ring?  _ Poe was _ not  _ paying attention to anything else at the moment.

“Connix,” Poe requests, “can you play it again?”

_ Kriffing _ cold weather, he couldn’t tell if Finn was wearing it or not, everything so neatly tucked to scare off the chill. A distant zone of his brain wondered if somehow Finn had found out about the meaning of the ring before taking off.

If Finn had decided he didn’t want to wear it anymore.

*** 

Poe isn’t sure of how much time has passed. He is training now, he’d never had much muscle before, didn’t really need it, but he liked to be fit and ready to fight. There is a war out there for heaven’s sake; with that in mind he delivers another punch to the boxing bag. Not a place, one more punch, to be thinking, two more, about Finn, a series of three, or his smile or  _ that other _ guy, one more punch adds to the series. 

He stops, exhausted. Could he blame the guy? Poe had basically done the same thing. Finn is a great person; charming, kind, the best of friends, and that leaving out his incredible looks or his much adored-by-all habit of training shirtless. And Poe and Finn are friends.

Many, many thoughts later, dozens of days piled up for his mind to swim into those dangerous waters, Poe had realized that they were, indeed, friends. They were  _ friends _ , and they had each other the same way Poe had the General, and Connix, Rose, Black Squadron… Poe had shared a bed with guys before and remained friends.

_ But you’ve never so invested in one before, never connected the same way, even in the middle of a war _ , a voice deep inside of him reminds him.

And the memories come back to him. Oh, he’s doomed.

Will he ever be enough to risk it all? 

Does it matter how many times Poe would slip into knees? Does it matter how many times they kissed that night?

His brain doesn’t let him forget about it.

***

_ Around twenty-two days earlier, in a remote Commander quarters. _

“Poe” Finn said, softly, pleading.

They got five kisses down— not like Poe was keeping track. They weren’t as messy now, Poe had got too excited after the shock but Finn, his sweet Finn, kept him steady; he was the rock he kept crushing on, and on, and on… 

Everytime waves made their way back to Poe, Finn made sure to brush it off with his lips, his hands neatly around his shoulders. It was the most intoxicating thing he had tried, at least for a while.

Finn stood above him, a tease smile plastered on his face; Poe, for his part, stopped thinking, if he did he would ruin this and his chances of getting kiss-swollen lips from Finn again was shrinking by the moment. Finn reached down to him, leaving a few seconds between them, daring Poe to do the first move, to let himself be vulnerable like that; of course he did.

He thought briefly about how he must look; curls pointing in every direction, breath racing, pupils fully blown, yearning lips… Desperate,  _ so desperate.  _

They shifted things a little, stumbling through the short gap towards Poe’s bed. Finn fell first, the look in his face telling him how much he adored Poe; if he couldn’t believe his luck then, when Finn took off his shirt it felt like winning the  _ kriffing _ lottery was dull compared to this.

Poe’s mouth was shamelessly watering, he couldn’t wait to get to trace his lips on every corner, every scar; his body was a canvas and the war had left deadly kisses on him.  _ Maybe another time _ , Poe thought,  _ maybe another time I get to kiss him everywhere _ . For now this was more than enough. Anything Finn wanted to give him would be so more than enough, even if he wanted to stop now, the fact that at some point Finn  _ wanted _ him will be treasured upon.

They rolled, Finn was on top; he kissed Poe sweet and long, his hands  _ finally _ touching more of Poe, ranking his shirt up. Poe’s shirt gone, soon both of their pants follow the same incredible fate; Finn’s mouth was on Poe’s collarbone, sucking gently, till he bit harder after Poe’s encouraging sounds. 

Finn moved them on their side, his hand going down Poe’s body and staying firmly on his lower back. Poe couldn’t even hold back a moan for fuck’s sake; he was supposed to be the experienced one— he was granted Finn had never really gone too far, or so he had told Poe— not a quivering mess just by some kisses.

Finn’s smile made it worth, Poe could sense it down by his upper chest. Finn’s mouth moved lower and lower and,  _ kriff _ , not lower enough. Just when he was about to say something, that mouth closed around a particular rough scar he had; the gesture was so full of feelings, of  _ something else _ Poe didn’t dare to imagine.

He came back and kissed Poe again, he noticed how flushed he was and he eased Finn into the mattress with a mild move.

“You sure?”

Poe caught his tongue between his mouth before he could say “buddy”.

Finn only kissed him as a response.

“You’re calling the shots, ok?” Poe spoke again.

Finn arched an eyebrow, “Well, if I am, then I bet it’s the first time for you too then.”

Poe blushed so deeply he was scared too much blood was in his face right now.

“Maybe.”

Silence.

“Poe?”

“Yes?”

“I want you.” Finn said, looking him straight into his eyes, heart open and trusting.

Maybe this could be his new drug, Poe was definitely getting addicted.

He moved his hands, roaming through Finn’s solid body, those hard hours of training really payed off for the guy. Poe trailed down on him, leaving gentle marks, nothing comparable with the ones on his own neck. When he got right where Finn needed him, the man under him let out a shaky gasp; Poe froze, slowly dragging his mouth just over the place, this time he got a moan.

Poe Dameron decided right there he would do anything to get this man to let out those sounds for the rest of his life, if he wanted him for that long. 

He got down to business. Of course, he knew the technique by heart, the motions eased up, he knew what he had to do, the easing of his jaw, the hollowing of the cheeks, the flick of the tongue; however, this time he actually paid attention at every sound of move under him, just one goal in mind,  _ making Finn feel good. _

Finn snatched him right up, Poe had a shit-eating grin on him— maybe he got a little too good at  _ that _ , or too excited, could someone blame the guy?

All his thoughts are gone, he’s under Finn again, his partner’s hands taking off the last piece of fabric between them, a hand moving experimentally up and down on him.

“Finn.” It wasn’t a moan, it was a  _ need. _

Everything was getting slick down there, when had Finn got the little bottle? Poe didn’t care, everything felt just perfect.

Finn was towering over him again, his hand reaching the place on Poe’s back where he had dreamt so many nights Finn would be.

“Poe,” he called him, “look at me.”

His eyes were a trap, absorbing Poe, watching him respond, caring over his heart; so Poe led himself be vulnerable, open, nails digging into Finn’s flesh, compelling sounds dropping down of his mouth like a river. Another finger, and another one entered the game.

“Finn, please…”

“We don’t have—”

“It’s ok.”   
  


Finn looked back at him, his free hand coming up to brush his fingers over Poe’s cheek, lovingly, “ok.”

Soon enough, Poe’s biggest fantasy came true. It was stiffy, definitely messy at first; till Finn got the rhythm, still listening to Poe’s needs like they were the only thing in the world. 

How did he got so lucky? That was the only thought he could form, the rest of his speech ability banged out of him. Finn attacked his neck again, right when he found the perfect angle, making Poe scream loud enough; Finn made sure to hit it  _ every damn time _ .

Everything ended leaving Poe trembling, shaking like he had never before. As he got cleaned and nestled into sleep by Finn’s big arms, he managed to think that maybe Jedi didn’t do relationships, like the one Poe wanted, but maybe they did one-night stands.

***

_ Now. _

Bee Bee-Ate comes blasting binary right before Poe loses his mind.

They are back.

***

By the time Poe gets to the bay, Finn is already out of the shuttle, helping a nice older women, though his eyes are somewhere else, looking for something— in his fantasies, Poe would let himself think he was looking for him.

Echoes of their so called tradition come back to him, all those thank-god-you’re-alive hugs fill Poe’s mind; he doesn’t even notice he’s running till he feels against him,  _ how it should be _ , says a faint voice inside his head.

The hug is longer than the others they’ve shared, meaning Poe gets to breathe for a little, the first time in weeks. They break apart, Finn’s hand still on Poe’s shoulder, keeping him close.

That was till Finn steps out, a young man Poe recognizes from the video enters his view. Finn lets go off Poe completely, introducing him to the guy, this unknown person arm’s way too close to Finn’s waist.

The name is Eder.


	4. Chapter 4

An hour— more like fifty-six minutes but who’s keeping track, definitely not Poe— passes, the small group of force-sensitive people report back to General Leia, explaining their abilities, information and commitment to the Resistance; it goes fairly well, Poe deducts from the look on Leia’s face. 

While the elders go back to either eat, train or rest, the younger of them gather around with the pilots, Poe included. Rey, Finn and Eder start exchanging stories and the pilots jokingly imitate a Jedi duel between them, even Eder pitches in and works his way to Jess— the guy is funny, it is really difficult not to like him but Poe can make an effort every once in awhile.

He isn’t sure if his feelings are in the correct path. Poe is older, almost a decade older than Finn, and Finn has never had _ time _ . Time to grow up, to be loved, to fool around and make mistakes like every single teenager; like Poe did. Everyone deserves to have intense feelings, dive themselves in a relationship, experiment with someone for the first time; the ring that may or may not be on Finn’s neck is a sign Poe got to do that, having that ring passed through various hands, silly boyfriends that were meant to be the love of his life.

Poe laughs along some of the jokes, far less drunk than his squadron; Rey and Jessika could barely stand up, Eder not in a much better state, clinging onto Finn… Yeah, Poe could see them together, the guy is charming, funny and definitely good-looking; they deserve a chance to figure out things on their own, Poe had already lived, Finn is barely starting, could he in his good mind tie him down like that?  _ Of course not. _

One, two, maybe three hours go by. The unstable feeling settled on Poe’s chest doesn’t go anywhere, it keeps getting fueled with every move Eder makes on Finn, every flirty line, and, what hurt the most, every flirty response, every time Finn doesn’t pull away from Eder and into Poe. 

Poe wants to scream, to rack his fingers through his scalp and just yell at Finn his feelings, let them out in the wild. He doesn’t do that, because first, he is a decent human being, and second, it would be impossible to make himself be heard over the wreck and chaos everyone is making. Karé, Jess and Rey have now improvised a dance floor and everyone who is even slightly drunk is making their way over there.

He stays; so does Finn. His—  _ his what? Friend? Something else? _ —, Finn makes his way over to Poe’s. They make small talk, exchange some jokes, everything is alright, like it was  _ before. _

“They look like they are having fun.” Poe comments, his hand careful not to slip too close to Finn.

“Wanna share a dance?” Finn proposes, “ _ buddy _ ?”

They laugh but they get up and swim their through the bodies, getting to the center of the dance floor early enough.

_ Why had Finn called him “buddy”? What did it mean? _

Again, out of pure practice, Poe pushes his thoughts aside, he knows it’s not healthy, he can feel them bottling up inside him, poisoning his reasoning; for now he focuses on dancing with his two straight feet and making silly stuff so he can see Finn’s smile again, and again, all the time, he could never get enough of that.

However, calm waters can’t stay calm forever. Someone trips over the music, a tangle of arms and legs form and people are just too drunk to help themselves, Rey and Eder are in the worst condition.

“We should take them to their rooms.” Finn says.

Poe agrees. 

The sight that escapes his lips when Eder clings into his friend and Finn’s arm goes around the young man waist shouldn’t be there.

It was too difficult knowing how Finn’s arm felt around  _ him _ .

***

Is the base shrinking? Poe swears the hallways never seemed so narrow as they do now. Finn and Poe carried the drunk Jedi far away from where the pilots still hanged out, now they are in front of Rey’s door.

“I will make sure she makes it to the bed ok,” Finn says, “stay with him?”

_ Not in a million years _ , Poe thinks.

“Of course, buddy.”

And just like that, Poe and Eder are alone. The young man is out of his mind, too much of Jess’ liquor in his veins.

Eder mutters something but Poe can’t hear him, he decided to dismiss it, it’s probably nothing anyways.

“You,” It’s Eder again, this time more clear, “I know you want him.”

That catches Poe by surprise,  _ where the kriff is Finn? _

“But you are  _ old _ , man; aren’t you like thirty? Were there holovids when you were born?” Eder laughs and continues, “Who do you think he will choose?”

This guy is getting on his nerves and Poe has to remind himself that Eder is young and drunk, “No one has to choose anyone.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Eder says as he gets out of Poe’s grip, stumbling till he is in front of the guy, “well I think you are just a tad too desperate for him,” he points to Finn’s general direction, “especially when it is not clear he might be into someone else.”

Is Eder sober enough for Poe to punch him? Because he really wants to right now.

“You don’t know that.”

“But I know this: I’m into him, I don’t want a clingy relationship with him and,” Eder says, getting close to Poe, shit-eating grin on his stupid face, “I bet in better in bed than an old dude.”

Eder is trying to provoke him, Poe knows that, he also knows that he is young and out of his good mind right now; but what if he really thinks that?  _ What if he is right? _

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that again.”

Eder looks at him through his clouded mind, “what if I do?”

Poe is about to respond when he feels the shock of a feeble punch against his jaw.  _ Oh, buddy what are you doing.  _

The fight is messy and quick, it ends before Poe can actually acknowledge what is happening; he spends most time just avoiding Eder’s ineffective attacks and getting to calm down, though he can’t say he hadn’t landed his own fair share on the dude’s face.

They break off. Finn is back and it’s looking back and forth between them, a resolute look in his eyes, although it is mostly dedicated to Eder.

“I’ll meet you back in your quarters.” Finn says to Poe through gritted teeth before disappearing with Eder, probably to get him safe to his room.

Because Finn is a good person. And he deserves someone better than Poe.

***

The door is half-open when Finn comes back, Poe hadn’t even bothered to take his time with it. Ashamed and calmed now, he had been patiently waiting for his friend to get back.

“You ok?” Finn speaks up, analyzing Poe’s face.

_ He’s looking for an injury _ , Poe realizes.

“I’m alright.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”   
  


Awkward silence, but Poe had brought this down on himself. 

“Seems like Eder got the worst part of the deal.” Finn comments, “I had to take care of his left cheek but he is going to have a blue-and-black mark tomorrow, man.”

Poe nods, trying to shake off the idea of Finn taking care of Eder, the two of them close, touching each other.

“I heard what Eder was saying, you know, the walls aren’t exactly thick.”   
  


_ Oh _ . 

Oh, no.

Ok, Finn knows Poe is into him. No big deal. No need to hyperventilate. Oh,  _ kriff _ , he’s so screwed.

“Finn, I—”

“Is it true?”

Poe swallows the knot in his throat, “what is?”

“That you think I’m into someone else.”

Poe was  _ not  _ expecting that.

Finn moves around and sits by his side, struggling with something till he gets it out; it’s the ring.

“One of the pilots told me what it meant before going away,” Finn explains, “look, I know it’s not going to be easy, it is a war after all, but, Poe,” he calls to him, holding his face between his fingers, “didn’t I make it clear that night that I wanted to be with you?”

“Finn, you are young, the reality is you are probably going to want to fool around, we are going to be on lots of missions, I can’t tie you down like that,” Poe tries and explain, even if he doesn’t think he’s making sense, he tries, for Finn, “and I can’t ask you to—”

He’s cut off by Finn’s lips on his.

“It’s not that I don’t want to listen to you,” Finn’s talking against his lips, both of them too close to each other, “I do, whatever you’ve got to say, it’s just that you are not listening to me, Poe.”

Poe is still dumb-founded, slowly blinking at him.

“I just, Poe, I want this, you, your ring, everything, but I wasn’t sure of how to say it but then that night  _ happened  _ and I had to expend almost a whole month knowing that I could be with you,” Finn is ranting, his breath quick, “and, man, I couldn’t think of anything else, and I’m back and you are here and now I see that you think I don’t want to be with you; but I do.”   
  


He gently puts his hand on Finn’s face, forcing him—and himself— to look at each other. Finn’s chest is a bit quieter now.

“I really do, Poe.”

“Finn, I—” 

He doesn’t get his “I do too”, there is no need because soon enough Finn’s mouth is clashing against him, intense and longing.

They shift and now Poe is stradling Finn’s lap, working the man under him. And Finn is making those beautiful sounds he had missed so much;  _ there should be a law that said only Finn gets to say my name _ , Poe thinks.

Finn kisses him thoroughly, his methodical mind showing up in an attempt to reassure Poe’s feelings; that only makes Poe tremble more. For his part, Finn grabs Poe’s ass a little more firmly, urging him to put his legs around him, picking him up and carrying him to the bed, their mouths not leaving each other.

For their defense, they  _ almost _ make it to the bed. Finn pressed Poe against a wall before they could reach it, a gentle hand behind his neck to not cause him any harm. 

“Poe…” Finn moans when he bites into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, sometimes I thought I was drowning.”

He can’t repress a shiver that goes down through his spine. Poe starts motioning his legs up and down, getting the friction he desperately wanted, getting to hear the little grunts Finn makes right below his ear.

They finally make it to the bed, the touch of the sheets and the smell of Finn is comforting. The heavy and hot weight of Finn against his body is all he can think about. His clothes are gone in no time, Finn is staring down at him.

“You are so beautiful, Poe.”

Poe can’t make his mouth work properly, only letting out a shaky breath. Finn’s lips start caressing his chest, is slower than the first time, but Poe is just as eager. 

Finn goes down on him, kissing his biceps, his chest, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses over his barely visible V-line—not like Finn’s which is completely bold against his skin. 

“I’m going to turn you around, ok?”

Poe lets out a fervid nod. Finn manhandles him and now he is laying on his chest, completely sprawled on the bed, vulnerable. His Finn starts to kiss his lower back, the curve of his ass.

“Just,” Finn sounds nervous, “tell me if I’m doing it ok, if you are feeling good.”

Poe mumbles something in response. After that it’s pretty much settled.

Finn’s face is breathing hot air over his skin, tempting; till finally his tongue makes contact with his rim and Poe lets out a loud moan—he had been waiting for this for so long. Finn gets the catch and starts to operate, listening to Poe’s needs, his shivers, the way he yells when Finn’s tongue brushes an specific spot. 

His body is shaking by now, Poe is grinding into the mattress just to get some tension off; he can hardly breathe when Finn dives again with that magical mouth of his and presses wet kisses into him, his tongue flat and teasing his rim. 

“ _ Kriff _ , Finn, I’m dying, please.”

Finn takes his face off his duty, Poe shivering at the new coldness.

“Please what, Poe?”

Now Finn is over him, his lips whisper into Poe’s hear everything that he had thought off while staying away, all the things he wanted to do to Poe, only him. The build up was breaking him from the inside, Poe was so sensitive he knew that if he touched himself everything would be over.

So Poe tells him, what he needs, what he wants; he can almost hear the smile forming on Finn’s face. His partner angles himself and pushes into him ever so slightly, their sounds mixing, Finn’s moans on his ear, a hand tangled in his messy hair. 

“More.” Poe says, it comes out more desperate than he expects but he doesn’t have enough fucks to care.

Finn bottoms out and starts again, the pain is nowhere to be found, just bliss. The motion continues, Finn is gripping into Poe’s hips so hard his fingertips will be tattooed forever on his skin—  _ perfect _ , Poe thinks. He’s fucking Poe through the mattress, hot and desperate, quickened pace, half-gasped whispers on his ear. 

The tension is too much, Poe loses himself completely to this, to Finn. 

And Finn loses himself into Poe.

***

“I thought Jedi didn’t have relationships.”

Finn and Poe are cuddling up on Poe’s bed, not asleep just yet, enjoying the feeling of both of them being alive too much. His head is resting on Finn’s broad chest, totally nestled up by his arms.

“You also thought that a stormtrooper defecting the First Order was impossible too.”

Poe laughs, diving his head into Finn’s skin again, leaving little kisses with him. This is what he longed for, the list of lost names was still engraved in his mind and their rampant doomed is present in his air at all times; but as of right now, this was perfect.

“Do you think we will ever win?” Poe asks, it’s a silly question but he’s bliss out by sex and feelings, so he doesn’t care.

Finn simply nods, “they’ve taken enough of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it !! thanks for everything and feedback is welcomed !!


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